


the song you'll never get quite right

by alexanger



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Multi, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:56:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger
Summary: "Get your shit, Alexander. Then go kiss that boy of yours." Eliza smiles at him and definitely doesn't think about his lips. She especially doesn't think about how soft they look, how yielding they would be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MenaceAnon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MenaceAnon/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get your shit, Alexander. Then go kiss that boy of yours." Eliza smiles at him and definitely doesn't think about his lips. She especially doesn't think about how soft they look, how yielding they would be.

Eliza is walking into her office with a cup of coffee when Alex shows up for the day. “See you later,” he says to his boyfriend, giving John a kiss on the cheek.

    “Don’t be late tonight,” John tells him. “I know how you get caught up in your work but we have reservations at seven.”

    “Reservations?” asks Eliza as John takes his leave. “Going somewhere fancy tonight?”

    “First anniversary,” Alex explains, and Eliza feels her heart sink.

    “Congrats,” she says. “I’m really happy for you two.”

    “It’s just a year, you know,” Alex says, but he’s grinning. “Mind giving me a shout when you leave? Chances are I’ll get too deep in a case and lose track of time.”

    “One of these days,” says Eliza, “I’m going to have to say no to you.”

    Alex bats his eyelashes at her. “Pretty please?”

    Eliza laughs. “I guess today is not that day. Sure, I’ll check in on you. I leave earlier than you do, though.”

    “How much earlier?”

    “5:30. Should give you plenty of time to get ready for your hot date,” says Eliza.

    “Cool. Thanks,” Alex says.

    There’s a moment of awkward silence before Eliza blurts out, “I’m having a bit of trouble with one of my cases - it’s not anything super interesting but I thought a fresh pair of eyes might help?”

    “Sure, I can give you a hand. Give me a second to get settled and grab some coffee and I’ll be right there,” Alex says. “I’ll be quick.”

    Eliza settles herself in her office and draws a second chair up to her desk. She takes her time turning on her computer and gathering her files together. Before she can pull out all her notes, she hears from the hallway, in Alex’s distinct nasal voice, “hey, asshole, if you take my milk one more time -”

    “I only drink soy and you know this, you petty little man,” a gravelly voice replies. “If you’re going to accuse me of milk theft you’d better grab a judge to back it up.”

    “Gentlemen,” comes a third voice, smooth and commanding, “I’m going to have to ask you both of you to take a step back and calm down.”

    Eliza races to the door of her office to see Washington standing between Alex and his mortal enemy Thomas Jefferson. Jefferson is holding a mug in his hands and as he takes a sip, just for an instant, his eyes go wide. It’s just a split second, though, and his face goes perfectly blank almost immediately.

    Alex doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just allows a grin to spread across his face. “Oh, fucker,” he whispers finally, and Washington scowls.

    “Language, Hamilton,” he warns.

    Thomas makes a face. “You moved my soy.”

    “I did not!” Alex insists. “George, this is milk embezzlement -”

    “What? That’s not even a thing,” Washington says. “Put your name on your milk, Hamilton. Jefferson, stop taking it. No more nonsense in this office.”

    Neither of them seem satisfied by this outcome. Alex grumbles and turns towards Eliza’s office, and Thomas disappears into his own.

    “One of these days you’re going to go too far and Washington will _really_ get mad,” says Eliza.

    “Nope. Not gonna happen,” Alex tells her. “I’m his favourite.”

    “Last week you complained to me for half an hour about how Thomas was his favourite and how unfair that was,” she says.

    “Okay," says Alex, "but you don't understand. He was clearly siding with Jefferson on the no-pda-in-the-office policy -"

    "Alex, honey, no offense, but nobody needs to see you kissing -"

    "It was in my office, with the door closed," says Alex. "So it doesn't count."

    "It absolutely does count. It’s unprofessional. Now, are you going to help me with my case or not?" Eliza asks.

    Alex sighs. "I guess I could. What's your case about?"

    "A stabbing," says Eliza. "My guy, of course, is accused of stabbing his lover, and there's a ton of evidence stacked against him, and I'm just not sure where to go from here."

    "Have you tried slandering the prosecution?" asks Alex.

    "That's a crime," Eliza reminds him.

    "Only if they catch you doing it," says Alex. "Alright, alright," he adds, as Eliza glares at him, "sue me for trying to help. Let's buckle down on this."

    Eliza can't help but smile at his sudden no nonsense attitude. She leans over her cup of coffee, passes him her notes, and says, "okay. So here's how the fight started ..."

 

* * *

 

 

    At 5:30 exactly, Eliza knocks on the door of Alex's office. "Ready to go?" she asks.

    "Mm." Alex is bent over his latest case, ink stains all over his hands and one on his right cheek. "Yeah."

    "What was the question that I just asked you?"

    "Uh ..." Alex looks up. "Wait, you asked me a question?"

    Eliza feels her heart thudding. Alex is dishevelled and looks like an absolute wreck; his suit jacket is thrown over the arm of one of the chairs in the corner of the room, his sleeves are rolled back past his elbows, and there are dark bags under his eyes. She wonders what it would be like to press kisses there, work her way down his cheeks, towards his lips -

    She shakes the thought from her mind. It doesn't do anyone any good, especially not her, to think of such things. "I asked if you were ready to go," she says. "Alex, look at you. You're a mess."

    He looks down at his hands. "No ink on my shirt this time, though," he says.

    Eliza crosses the threshold into the office and takes one of his hands. "Ink everywhere else, so that's hardly an accomplishment. Let's get you cleaned up a little before your big date. Are you going home to change?"

    "No, I figured I'd do another hour of work and then -" Alex cuts himself off at the look on Eliza's face. "Or I'll go home and change, I guess."

    "Do you know nothing about romance?" asks Eliza. "It's your anniversary, and you need to look like it's a big thing, 'cause it is. Come here." She straightens his tie a little, pulls a face, and says, "no. Absolutely not. You're not showing up like this. First of all we're going to scrub that ink off your hands, and then you're going to go home, pick out a nice outfit, put on some cologne, and show up to the restaurant looking like a million bucks. Deal?"

    Alex laughs. "You'd think it was you going on this date and not me. Why do you care so much?"

    "Because your boyfriend deserves that much respect," she says. "Come on."

    She leads him to the little kitchenette where there's a sink with a nail brush. Alex complains a little when she runs the water hot - "Hurts my hands," he says, and she grimaces.

    "It's gonna hurt a lot more than that by the time I'm done. I'm scrubbing you."

    Eliza lathers up the brush, takes Alex's hand, and starts scrubbing the ink off. "Ouch!" Alex yelps, snatching his hand back. "Are you trying to strip my skin off?"

    "Do you have any better way to do this?" she asks.

    "Yeah, actually," he says. "I have tea tree oil in my briefcase -"

    "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" she asks, squinting at him. "You nuisance."

    "You didn't ask," says Alex.

    "You're really dense sometimes, you know that?" Eliza says.

    "I'm always dense, according to you," Alex tells her. Mischief sparkles in his eyes. She's captivated by them - they're stormy grey, the colour of the ocean during a hurricane. She wants to sink into them and let herself drift.

    Eliza somehow tears her gaze away. "You are," she says. "Boys are the worst."

    "What, every boy? Somehow that doesn't seem fair."

    "Every single boy," she confirms. "All boys. Every boy is the absolute worst, including you. Especially you. You're the most worst of all of them."

    "The most worst," Alex echoes.

    "I know what I said. Go home and change," she tells him.

    "I guess I'll take your expert advice. Am I allowed to get my stuff first, or do I have to leave without it?"

    "Get your shit, Alexander. Then go kiss that boy of yours." She smiles at him and definitely doesn't think about his lips. She especially doesn't think about how soft they look, how yielding they would be.

    "See you tomorrow," he says. He dries his hands and leaves the kitchenette. Eliza can hear him stopping in his office, gathering his things, turning out the light. She holds onto the counter for dear life and doesn't cry.

 

* * *

 

 

    The next day Alex turns up half an hour late. When he walks into the office, he's bent over, shielding his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lighting.

    "How was your date?" Eliza asks, leaning against the door of her office. "By the way, you're half an hour late. Are you gonna freak out now or later?"

    "Don't talk so loud," Alex mumbles.

    "So I take it you had a fun night, then. How much did you drink? You look like a wreck."

    "Just give me like ten minutes before you talk to me, okay? I need a buffer and some coffee."

    "Go sit down," Eliza tells him. "I'll bring you coffee. And a muffin, if you want it."

    Alex makes a horrible noise. "No food, ever," he moans. "Only coffee. And a gallon of water."

    She grins at him. "Water and coffee. Got it. Now go sit down."

    Eliza takes her time making his coffee. She figures he can sweat it out a little. Eliza knows just how he takes it - more cream than should be allowed, three spoons of sugar, and a little hot water. She shudders at the last part. Watering down coffee should be illegal.

    "I go hard enough without drinking coffee at all," he'd explained, the first time Eliza caught him doing it. “If I don’t water it down I’ll probably just have a heart attack.”

    “And what a tragedy that would be for everyone,” Eliza had drawled.

    So she waters down his coffee, just a little. She goes easier on the water today - she figures he could use the caffeine. By the time she gets back to his office, Alex is slumped in his chair, groaning a little.

    “Hey there, grumpy bear,” she says. She sets his coffee down on his desk and asks, “so you didn’t tell me, how much did you drink? You must have _really_ been drinking to be suffering this way.”

    “I’m just not gonna have a good day, let’s put it that way,” says Alex.

    “Things can still shape up. We could find the miracle cure for hangovers.”

    “Bacon sandwich.” Alex looks up at her and reaches over to take his coffee. “It’s the miracle cure.”

    “And how do you know this?”

    “Same way I know about tea tree oil and ink. I know everything.” He groans a little and hauls himself upright enough to take a sip of his coffee. “Oh, _fuck_ yeah,” he whispers into it.

    “So at lunch we’ll go grab a couple BLTs and you can tell me about your fancy date,” Eliza suggests.

    Alex looks stricken for a moment. The expression is gone in an instant, but Eliza’s lawyer eyes don’t miss a thing. “You okay?” she asks.

    “Fine,” says Alex.

    “You didn’t look fine when I asked about your date, though,” she says.

    “Don’t cross examine me, El.” Alex rubs at his eyes. “But yeah, we can go get a couple BLTs and dish, if you want. You know how I love gossip.”

    “Especially if it’s about Thomas Jefferson,” Eliza teases.

    “The man is infuriating! The other day he was like, hey, Hamilton, I can jump higher than any tree, and I was like no you can’t, and he was like, yeah I can cause trees can’t jump, and I almost assaulted him,” Alex complains. “You don’t understand, Eliza. He is the bane of my existence. He plagues me. Him and his ridiculous purple suits. That asshole -”

    “Save it for lunch, Alex,” she says. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you had a _thing_ for him.”

    Alex laughs in her face. “Yeah. Sure. The only thing I have for him is the thing where I want to murder him in his sleep. It would be so easy - break into his apartment and -”

    “Nope, that’s enough of that, because if you actually do it you need someone to swear it wasn’t premeditated,” says Eliza. “And I can’t do that if you spill your plans, can I?”

    “I guess not,” Alex mutters darkly.

    “Good, look at you learning! Drink your coffee,” Eliza tells him, “and at lunch I’ll take you out. My treat, since you’re having such a shitty day. Sound good?”

    “Sounds great, actually. Thanks.” Alex laces his fingers over the crown of his head and bears down against his temples with the heels of his hands. “Feels like my brain’s about to explode. Oof.”

    “No exploding at work. Washington would kill you and make the rest of us clean it up. See you at lunch,” says Eliza.

    “See you,” Alex echoes.

    Eliza walks back to her office, closes the door, sinks into her chair, and hides her broad grin behind her hands. It’s not a date - she tries very hard to remind herself of this, of the fact that it _can’t_ be a date, but either way, she’s going out for lunch with Alexander Hamilton. The tomcat himself.

    There’s a difference between being work friends and being _friend_ friends. Work friends have fun at work but real friends - they do things outside the office. Things like getting BLTs and complaining about Thomas Jefferson.

    Truth is, she likes Thomas. He’s a braggart, sure, but at least he’s funny when he brags. He’s got a certain way about him - he’s smooth, uncomfortably so, for someone so clumsy. He has a wrist that healed wrong from a bad break and it clicks when he moves it a certain way, which makes Alex squeamish, so of course he does it constantly during meetings. He always comes to work in a flawless purple suit in as many different shades as she can name. More, even. Eggplant. Wine. Heather. Lilac. Orchid. Violet. One almost magenta, another almost burgundy. Is heliotrope a shade of purple, or is she making that up?

    Thomas has deep brown eyes, full lips, and natural hair that fans out away from his head in a dazzling halo. Alex has bags under his stormy eyes, ink stained hands, and gorgeous raven hair that he ties back into a ponytail when he’s working. She has the privilege of working with these two beautiful men, so different from each other in so many ways, but both of them aching for something greater. They share this ache and she knows this, because both of them have taken her aside and complained to her about how law is great, sure, it’s just fine, but there should be _more_ to life than just criminal defense. Alex longs to leave behind a legacy; Thomas longs for power and respect.

    Thomas is -

    Thomas is at the door of her office.

    “Hi,” he says. Eliza starts.

    “Do you just go around opening doors? Have you ever learned about knocking?” she asks, dropping her hands to her desk.

    “Knocking? What’s that?” he asks. “Look, I’m having a little trouble on this DUI -”

    “And you need a fresh pair of eyes,” Eliza suggests.

    “Yes, exactly,” says Thomas. “Can you give me a hand?”

    Funny, she thinks. It was her using that line just the day before, and here they are, playing it out again.

    “Sure,” she says.

    “So here’s how it started,” says Thomas, tossing his notes onto her desk. “My guy allegedly had a bunch of cocaine …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos water the plants i fucking forgot about oh shit. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t love you,” Alex had said.

And John had said -

Wait. Back up.

It had started with the wine. With lots of wine, actually, and maybe a couple of shots of vodka. 

Further back.

Alex had walked into the restaurant at quarter past seven. Not bad, he’d thought, considering it had taken so much time to get all of the ink off his face and hands. It hadn’t been good enough for John, though, who was sitting at their table and angrily tapping away on his phone.

“Sorry,” Alex had said. “Got caught up at the office.”

And John had stared at him and said, “of course you did. What was the case this time?”

“So what did you tell him?” Eliza asks. She leans forward over Alex’s desk and hands him a fresh cup of coffee.

Well, nothing. Alex had stood in silence for a moment, then sat down at the table and shrugged his jacket off. “Sorry,” he’d repeated.

And John had said -

“No, but, here’s the thing,” says Eliza. “I mean, you  _ were  _ late.”

“By fifteen minutes! It’s not like the last time we had dinner - that time, I was, like, an hour late.”

“Okay, and that’s the problem,” Eliza tries to explain, but Alex cuts her off.

“Whose side are you on?”

“Sorry,” she says. “Continue.”

So he hadn’t said anything about the case. Instead he’d said something about how nice John looked in his tie and John had snorted and said “yeah, okay,” and at that point Alex had flagged down a waiter and asked for a bottle of merlot.

And then the first bottle was gone, and one bottle of wine had turned into a second, and then Alex had proposed shots, and by that time he’d been so far gone he barely knew his ass from his elbow. And that was when he’d said it.

“Okay, so what did John say?” Eliza asks.

Alex laughs. It’s a harsh sound that startles him as it explodes from his throat. “He said we need to talk about it, then got up and left. And I mean, he didn’t even finish his dinner.”

“Wait. So you drank two bottles of wine between you -”

“Most of it was me, but yeah.”

“And then shots. And you weren’t even finished dinner. So you were drinking basically on an empty stomach. And you rarely drink.”

Alex shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Then you deserved that hangover,” says Eliza.

“Hey,” says Alex, “you have to be nice to me. I might be getting dumped.”

Eliza’s eyes bug out a little. “You  _ might -  _ you  _ might  _ be getting dumped?  _ Might? _ Alex, you told your boyfriend you don’t  _ love  _ him. That’s a big fuck up after a year of dating.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I meant,” says Alex. He searches for the words for a moment. His mouth starts talking before he’s quite there - not unusual, all things considered. “See, it’s not that I don’t love him at all. It’s more like, I’m not  _ in love  _ with him. Do you see what I mean? Like, he’s great. A really solid, good guy. But I don’t want to get married or have kids with him or anything.”

“Do you want to be dating him?” Eliza asks.

Alex pauses, wrings his hands together, and says, “I guess not.”

“So that’s not fair to him. You need to tell him that.”

Alex stands up from his desk and starts to pace back and forth by the door. He focuses on keeping his footsteps as even as possible. “I guess,” he says.

“You  _ guess?”  _ Eliza asks.

“Maybe he’ll just break up with me and things will be fine,” says Alex.

“Alex, sweetie, that’s not how adult relationships work,” Eliza says. “You need to actually talk to him. Invest some time in this. Because clearly the two of you need to get some communication done, and you’ve probably really hurt him.”

“Shit, probably,” says Alex. He focuses on the pattern of the carpet. Little rectangles arranged in rows. He can see the way the pile angles and scuffs his shoe purposefully against the grain to watch the pattern go wonky. Take that, you fucking rectangles.

“So what are you going to do about it?” asks Eliza. “You can’t just leave it as it is.”

“No, I know that,” says Alex. He looks up from the carpet and fails to meet her eyes. It’s barely mid morning and already he feels like a week has passed. Eliza’s disapproval has a way of making him feel very small.

“When are you talking to him?” she asks.

“I didn’t really plan anything. I mean, I haven’t texted him or anything today, and last night I went home instead of going to his place. That’s the first time in months I’ve done that.” Alex pauses, then adds, “it probably didn’t help anything.”

“Probably not,” Eliza agrees.

“I’ll talk to him at lunch. Call him or something, I guess,” Alex says.

“Good idea,” Eliza tells him. Despite himself he feels a glow in his chest. It aches a little, in a good way - it always aches when Eliza praises him.

“I should get back to my work,” he says. “I have so much to do.”

“See you after your call for those BLTs,” says Eliza, and she leaves, failing to shut the door.

 

* * *

 

Alex glances at the clock. It’s noon. He’s been putting off the call as long as possible, but he knows John takes his lunch break at noon, too, and he may as well get it over with.

As he’s dialing John’s cell, Thomas fucking Jefferson saunters into his office and says, “got a minute?”

“Oh, you have to be kidding me,” says Alex. He slams his phone down on the receiver and glares at Thomas, struggling to breathe through the racing of his heart. Something about Thomas has a strange effect on him - he’s always a little more on edge with him around, a little sharper, his senses heightened. There’s that rasp in his breathing, too, the kind that makes him feel like a kid again, pining after the boys on the playground.

“Is now not a good time?” asks Thomas.

Alex shrugs. “As good a time as any, I guess. What do you need?”

Thomas smooths the front of his garish periwinkle blazer. “You had that drug case a while back, and I know you did a great job with it -”

“My guy got acquitted, yeah, what’s your point?” asks Alex.

“Well, I have a difficult case right now - lots of coke involved. Lots of it. And I could use some of your resources.”

Alex wants to sneer and say  _ what makes you think I want to help you? _ but he knows it’s a terrible idea. He doesn’t actually mind helping Jefferson, not really; in fact, there’s something sweet about being able to make his work a little easier. He likes being able to give, and when it’s someone like Thomas asking for help - well. Thomas is gorgeous and his swagger is intoxicating and Alex  _ lives  _ for that broad smile and the way Thomas chuckles deep in his throat when things are going his way.

“Alright,” he says. “I can get that to you after lunch.”

“What, you can’t do it now?” asks Thomas.

“I have a lunch date,” says Alex, and he feels himself flush with embarrassment. “Not a date, I just -”

“Ah. Your boy toy,” says Thomas.

“No, not him. I’m going to get lunch with Eliza. Want to come?”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Alex regrets it. Thomas’ eyebrows raise and the corners of his lips twitch and Alex just about dies when Thomas says, “does your boyfriend know?”

Alex is torn between sentences and what comes out is a muddled, “I don’t care about what John dates. I mean, what John knows. Or who he dates. Or who I date.”

“You don’t care who you date?” Thomas asks.

“I -”

“I’d like to come to lunch. When do we leave?” There’s that easy grin. Alex wants to become acquainted with the points of Thomas’ teeth.

“Now,” says Eliza from the doorway. “I didn’t know you were coming too, Thomas. Alex, did you make that call?”

“Important business?” Thomas asks.

“Nothing that can’t wait. Didn’t get a chance, Eliza. Give me a minute to grab my coat and we can head out. Go get your shit, Jefferson, cause I’m not gonna wait for you,” says Alex.

“Yes, you are,” says Thomas, and he saunters back out, not bothering to hurry in the least.

“I thought you were going to talk to John,” Eliza says. 

Alex shrugs. “Jefferson came in. He’s very distracting.”

Eliza gives him a huge grin and asks, “oh, is he now?”

“I’m not twelve, Eliza, don’t you tease me like this. Whatever you’re implying is absolute nonsense.” Alex takes his coat down from the stand in the corner of his office and says, “I’m gonna count to five, and if Jefferson isn’t here by then, we can just leave without -”

“I know you’re always eager to see me, but you don’t need to make it that obvious, Hamilton,” Thomas drawls. He stands just behind Eliza in the doorway of Alex’s office. Jerking his head towards the front door, he adds, “are we going?”

“Yeah, we’re going, relax.” Alex puts himself inside of his coat and follows Eliza and Thomas out the door of his office and towards the elevators. Thomas and Eliza seem to get along so well - they don’t bicker much, and when they do, Eliza always seems to win. She teases him, toys with him, in a way that Alex can’t help but be envious of. He’d love to be drawn out like that while she taunts him. He’d love to be the one taunting, too, but when he tries, Thomas gets prickly and guarded. 

So he’s silent, lost in thoughts about the clean lines of Thomas’ shoulders and the full curve of Eliza’s lips as they ride the elevator down to the lobby and as Eliza guides them towards a diner a couple of blocks away. He’s silent as Thomas flips through the menu and complains about almost everything he sees before settling on a BLT too. He’s silent as Eliza flags down a tired looking waiter and orders their food, as the same waiter brings a pot of coffee and fills their chipped mugs, as he dumps sugar into his mug and stirs. He’s so silent that Eliza seems to feel the need to ask him, “Alex, are you okay?”

He starts as if waking from a dream. “Oh, I’m fine,” he says. “Just thinking.”

“What are you thinking about?” asks Thomas.

And of course Alex can’t say anything like  _ your lips, jackass, _ or he’d never hear the end of it. Instead, he settles for, “I’m thinking about John.”

It’s not entirely untrue, he realizes. His thoughts about John, though, were more along the lines of where the spark died. He used to have thoughts like these, long ago, about John’s lips, about John’s shoulders, about the way he filled out his military uniform, the bunched muscles of his arm, the slim lines of his hips. Where did those thoughts go? he wonders. Is it so easy for love to die? Was it ever love or was it mere infatuation? And these thoughts he has now, about Eliza and Thomas - is that infatuation, or is it something more real?

He realizes Thomas has been trying to ask him a question. “Repeat that,” he says.

“I said, what’s going on with John? You sound upset,” Thomas says.

“Why are you so interested in my love life?” Alex asks him.

Thomas grimaces. “I’m not. It’s nice of me to pretend, though. You’re welcome.”

“Okay, fine, no need to throw a tantrum. Things have been rough,” Alex starts, and then Uptown Funk starts playing and he glances at his phone and says, “just kidding. He’s calling me. Please excuse me.” He gets up, walks towards the door, and picks up the call. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” John replies. “Can we talk?”

Alex leaves the restaurant. He leans against the wall and fumbles in his pocket for a pack of smokes and his lighter. 

“Yeah,” he says. He tilts his head, holding his phone with his shoulder, puts a cigarette to his lips, and lights it with shaking hands.

“I think what we’re doing isn’t working out,” John says.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees. He glances back inside to where Eliza and Thomas are sitting. They look happy. Eliza is laughing at something Thomas is saying, and as Alex watches, Thomas puts a hand on her shoulder. Something inside him aches.

“You’re right,” he says. “What we’re doing isn’t working at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos do my job for me tomorrow so i dont have to. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Alex ever said to Thomas was, “I’m Alexander Hamilton. It’s nice to meet me,” and that’s stuck with him for _years._

That arrogance has never changed, and Thomas takes it as a challenge. He finds that Alex just needs a little bit of a push to go off, and what better way to push than to puff himself up, to bluster and brag, to hammer on Alex's buttons and watch as he loses his shit?

There's none of that arrogance in him now, though. Alex is slumped over, dragging away at his cigarette like it's his last connection to a world where things make sense. He finishes the first cigarette, then lights a second, and Thomas worries for his lungs.

Alex glances back through the glass. Thomas grins at him, and Alex half-smiles back before turning away again. Eliza puts a hand on Thomas's knee.

"He's having a rough day," she says.

"What kind of rough day?" Thomas asks.

"I think I should probably let him tell you himself," she tells him. "It's not fair for me to spill his secrets, as intriguing as they are."

"I guess," says Thomas.

The harried waiter drops their plates on the table. "Three BLTs," he says.

"Thanks," says Eliza.

Thomas just nods. As the waiter leaves, he crams a fry into his mouth and takes a sip of his coffee. He pulls a face. Not the best combination of flavours.

"He doesn't seem like he's having a good time out there," Thomas says.

"So how much cocaine did your guy have?" Eliza asks.

The topic change throws him a little, and there's a bit of a wobble in Thomas' voice as he responds, "oh, like, so much. Just the most ridiculous amount. Like, he could have gotten high a billion times. I don't think he was dealing, I just think he was very well prepared for any kind of coke emergency."

Eliza giggles and Thomas feels his chest swell with joy. Her laughter is infectious and he finds himself laughing at his own joke - which isn't all that unusual an occurrence, truth be told.

Eliza composes herself and asks, "So what are you going to do?"

"We're going to try a plea deal, to be honest," Thomas says. "Like, there's so much evidence that there's no real use fighting. But we'll see what we can do."

"Smart," says Eliza.

"Yeah," Thomas says. He looks back outside to where Alex stands. "Everything I do is smart. Do you think he's okay?"

"Alex is a big boy. He can take care of himself," says Eliza.

He watches through the window as Hamilton hangs up his phone, takes a final drag of his cigarette, and flicks the butt. Thomas makes a mental note to tell him off for that. As Alex walks back into the restaurant, Thomas slings his arm across the back of Eliza’s chair. He tries to tell himself there’s nothing to the gesture, that it’s just the kind of thing that a friend might to do get comfortable, but when Eliza turns and beams at him, he can’t deny the sudden yawning in his stomach or the way the corners of his lips twitch.

Alex comes and sits down at the table and picks a fry up off of his plate. He toys with it for a moment, then puts it back down. “What’d I miss?” he asks.

“Nothing interesting,” says Eliza.

“Everything I say is interesting,” Thomas protests.

“Says you. I’d say the source is a little biased,” Eliza says. “Anyway. How’d it go, Alex?”

“Uh.” Alex props his elbow on the table and cups his chin in his hand. “I think I just got dumped?”

“You think?” asks Thomas.

“It’s hard to tell,” says Alex. “He did a lot of, y’know, yelling.”

“About what?” Thomas leans forward, attempting to look Alex in the eye, but Alex is avoiding his gaze. “What happened between last night and now? I thought you two had a fancy anniversary dinner -”

“The dinner was the problem,” Eliza says.

"Thanks, Eliza," says Alex, "I really wanted to think a ton about how badly I fucked up and now I get to! Yay!"

"Someone fill me in," says Thomas.

Alex sighs. "I got to the restaurant late, I got drunk as shit, I told John I don't love him. The end."

"There was more talking involved when Alex told me, but that's about the gist of it, yeah," says Eliza.

Thomas hums. "Wow. That's a pretty big fuckup, Hamilton."

Alex bristles and snaps, "thanks, Thomas, super helpful."

"No fighting, boys," says Eliza. "Anyway, tell us about the call."

"Well, he said we needed to talk about shit, and then just went off about how bad I fucked up and how I betrayed him -"

"Well I'd feel pretty betrayed if I was him," says Thomas.

"Who invited him?" Alex asks Eliza.

"You did," she says. She's smiling a little.

"Fuck," Alex says. Eloquent as always.

"Anyway, you were saying?" Thomas prompts.

"Oh, shit, right. Okay, so he just ... talked a whole lot about how he was feeling, and then asked if I'd been lying when I told him I loved him."

"And what did you say?" asks Eliza.

"I said I wasn't lying," says Alex. "Just that I was confused and I didn't really know what I wanted."

"So what do you want, Hamilton?" asks Thomas.

"I don't know," Alex says. "Not him." He's avoiding Thomas' eyes.

"Well, are you two - you know - going to keep trying?" Eliza asks.

"No. I'm done." Alex picks up another fry and frowns at it. "I'm not going to play around anymore. If I'm not feeling it, I'm not feeling it. Right?"

"Right," Eliza agrees.

Alex makes a satisfied noise and takes a huge bite out of his BLT. Thomas feels something strange, some emotion that makes his chest ache a little. He feels - happiness? Satisfaction, at the very least. It's terrible, he knows, to be so happy about a - friend's? coworker's? mortal enemy's? - breakup, but he's also too pleased to care about that. It's not a though he has any kind of a chance, but at least there's no more competition.

Or is there? Thomas looks at the way Eliza and Alex look at each other, and he feels a terrible empty yawning in his stomach. Eliza’s gaze lingers, long and slow, on Alex; and Alex steals little glances here and there, smiling every time he meets Eliza’s eyes.

Thomas withdraws his arm from the back of Eliza’s chair.

“So you wanted some resources,” says Alex through a mouthful of bacon, and it takes Thomas a moment to realize Alex is talking to him. Of course, he’s just taken a bite of his sandwich, so it’s a moment before he can make any kind of coherent response.

“Yeah,” Thomas says eventually.

“What kind of stuff are you looking for?”

“Ways to conveniently make the evidence disappear,” says Thomas, and Eliza almost chokes.

“Boys, let’s not resort to crime,” she says. “We’re better than that. Well, I am, at least. Sometimes I wonder about the two of you.”

“Low blow,” says Alex, and he throws a fry at Eliza.

“Are you five years old?” Thomas asks.

“Six, actually,” Alex says. “Today’s my birthday.”

Alex wolfs his food while Eliza takes her time, picking at her sandwich with as much dignity as a BLT could possibly warrant. Thomas is somewhere in the middle; he’s done his sandwich and starting on his fries when Alex cleans the last few bites off his plate, glances at his watch, and says, “we should get back to the office.”

Eliza has half a sandwich left. She glances at him and says, “no. Relax for two minutes.”

Alex doesn’t sit still well. He bounces a little in his seat, watching as Thomas and Eliza eat. Thomas can’t take that nervous energy; he dumps a handful of fries on Alex’s plate and says, “here, give your mouth something to do.”

“It does other things besides eating,” says Alex, but he picks up a fry and jams it in his mouth obediently.

“Like what?” Thomas purrs.

Alex gives him a Look and too late Thomas realizes what just slipped out of his mouth. He glances at Eliza, who’s giving him a different but equally horrifying Look. Alex’s face is a mask of surprise and distaste, while Eliza’s lips and eyebrows are curving upwards in amusement.

“Like telling you to shut up,” Alex manages finally. Thomas sees a way out.

“Nice comeback, nerd,” he says. It’s a little less eloquent than he would have liked, a little less venomous, but it does the trick. Alex snorts and crams more fries in his mouth and Eliza goes back to sedately eating her sandwich.

“So how are you feeling?” Eliza asks into the uncomfortable silence. Thomas opens his mouth to answer but Alex starts talking before he can.

“Fine, I guess.”

Thomas shuts his mouth. Of course the question wasn’t aimed at him.

“I mean, I have a lot of reevaluating to do right now,” says Alex. “I have so much stuff at his place that I’ll need to pick up, and it’s always a little weird being single again after so long being with someone, isn’t it? But I’ll live. And I think this is better, anyway. I felt like there was this strain for the last little while. You know, pretending to be in love. I just didn’t realize I was pretending.”

“What’s the point of pretending, you dingus? That just sucks for everyone involved,” says Thomas.

“Sometimes it just happens. Go easy on him, TJ,” says Eliza. “It’s his sixth birthday today, which means you have to be nice.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Thomas says, and he takes a gulp of his coffee. Alex and Eliza raise their mugs and humour Thomas by sipping at them.

“Maybe next year, when I turn seven, I’ll be slightly better at relationships,” Alex says.

“We can always hope,” says Eliza. She’s nearly finished her sandwich, and when the waiter comes to collect the boys’ plates, she says, “I’ll take the bill, please.”

“Split,” says Thomas, but Eliza shakes her head.

“My treat. You can get the sandwiches next time.”

Eliza is kind. Thomas mulls this over as she accepts the bill, looks it over, and hands the waiter a couple of bills. He can’t fathom where that kindness comes from - it must take so much effort, he thinks, to always be smiling, always have something nice to say, always be sweet and gentle. She isn’t yielding, by any stretch of the imagination - she’s fierce in court and refuses to bend to anyone - but there’s something so soft about her. He wants to tangle his fingers in her hair, feel it running over his hands. She tips well, he notices. Very well. It doesn’t surprise him.

They gather their things and walk back to the office in relative silence. Thomas can't help but fixate on the way Alex and Eliza walk next to each other. They look good together. Alex is just a little taller than her, and when he looks at her, his face lights up in a way that makes him look young and vibrant and alive. Eliza has a way of drawing herself up, dropping her shoulders, and lifting her chin that makes her look like a queen, and she does this when Alex talks to her. Whether it's to assert dominance or to show off, Thomas can't tell. All he knows is that when they talk, he wants to be between them, staring at both of them. They glow. He wants to bask in their light.

And it's confusing, because if anyone were to ask, he'd say he  _ hates _ Hamilton. The man is smug and condescending and full of far too much pride, but Thomas aches to see that facade drop. He knows there's softness there. Perhaps not the same kind as Eliza's softness, but something sweet must be there, just beneath the surface. He sees it in the way Alex looks at Eliza. He's seen it in the way Alex kissed John goodbye at the office door.

He holds the front door open for Alex and Eliza when they reach their building. Eliza thanks him; Alex says, "looks like you learned some manners, Jefferson."

"Piss off," Thomas says, but he's grinning.

"Thanks for lunch," Alex says to Eliza in the elevator. "I'm feeling a little less like a corpse. I probably look less like one, too."

"You look a little less horrible, yeah," says Thomas.

"Who invited him?" Alex asks.

"You asked already. The answer is still you," says Eliza.

"I have so many regrets," Alex mutters.

Thomas laughs a little. "Sounds like a you problem. This has been lovely," he adds, as the elevator reaches their floor and the doors slide open, "and now I need to get back to my work. Eliza, you lovely person, thank you for buying me food. Hamilton -"

Alex stiffens a little, preparing for a barb. Thomas doesn't have the heart to hurt him.

"I know shit's rough, but you have good people here for you. I hope things with John go more smoothly for you," he says. "I mean, I hope all the post-breakup stuff is easy. As easy as it can be, anyway."

Alex raises his eyebrows. "Thanks, Thomas," he says. It's genuine and there's a hint of that sweetness there, the sweetness Thomas knows is hiding.

He smiles at them, then excuses himself and walks into his office. As he sinks into his chair, he thinks of Eliza's long raven hair, of Alex's neat ponytail, and thinks of tangling his fingers into their hair and kissing each of them, one after the other. He struggles not to let himself imagine any further. Instead, he pushes the images out of his mind, and tries to throw himself back into his work.

The trouble is, the thoughts don't want to oblige him by leaving.

So what else can he do? He gives up, leans back in his chair, and lets himself drift into thoughts of two beautiful pairs of eyes - stormy sea grey and honey amber.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos fight off my exhaustion. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

"So, theoretically," Alex says to Eliza, "how weird would it be if I started seeing someone new?"

Eliza looks up from her papers to where Alex is standing in the doorway and nearly keels over. He looks  _ good. _ Alex has trimmed and sculpted his beard; his jacket is off and slung across one shoulder; his sleeves are rolled back to the elbow, and she can see the pronounced veins on his forearms and the elegant curve of his wrists. She swallows and asks, "It's only been, like, a week. Have you already got someone in mind?"

"Kinda," he says, and of course that just makes her mood plummet.

"Come in," she says. Alex hangs his jacket on her doorknob, pulls a chair up to her desk, and sits just across from her.

"So," he says. "I've been thinking."

"Did you hurt yourself doing that?" she asks.

"Ha. Funny. Do you want to hear about this or not?" Alex replies.

"I guess," she says. She must not have faked her enthusiasm well enough, because Alex looks a little offended.

"I don't have to tell you if you don't want," he says.

"No, no! I want to hear," Eliza insists.

"Okay, well. I've been thinking a lot since breaking up with John, and I think the reason things seemed so forced is that there's been someone else," he says. "Or, you know ... a couple someone elses. For a little while."

"Like, someone you've been seeing? Or -"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm not a cheater," he says. "Like, I'd date more than one person, but I wouldn't cheat."

"So you’re polyamorous," says Eliza. Does that mean she still has a chance, then? Or is she dreaming?

"Yeah," says Alex. "Anyway, I didn't cheat on John. But there's some people who I think - you know - I have a  _ thing _ for."

"Tell me about them," says Eliza.

Alex doesn't say anything for a moment. Finally, he says, "I worry about things. Like, all the time. And it's so  _ juvenile _ but lately one of the things I'm really worried about is telling my feelings to the people I'm interested in. I hate talking about feelings and shit. It's so -"

"Vulnerable?" Eliza asks.

"Yeah," says Alex. "Vulnerable."

"So? That's a good thing, sometimes. Vulnerability, I mean. It's important to have places where you can let your guard down. You should have people you can tell anything to," says Eliza.

"I feel vulnerable with you," says Alex.

"Yeah?" asks Eliza

"Yeah," says Alex. "In a good way, I guess."

Her heart swells. She reaches across the table, takes one of his hands, and squeezes it. "I'm glad you feel safe with me. Do you want to tell me about these people you're having feelings for?"

Alex looks at her hand like he's never seen one before in his life. "I think I'm okay," he says. "But, um - do you want to hang out tonight? Like, you, me, and maybe Thomas? I've been kinda lonely since things ended with John and I could use the company."

"I think Thomas is seeing his daughter tonight," says Eliza.

"I thought he only had her on the weekends?"

"It's Friday. Probably counts," she says.

"Well, then, the two of us can hang out. And we can ask him anyway." Alex pulls his hand away and Eliza suddenly realizes she'd still been holding it. "If he says no, he says no."

"So what do you want to do?" she asks.

"We could maybe watch a movie or something. My place feels so empty these days," says Alex. "You know, I was barely there when I was with John, and now all of a sudden it feels so foreign. Does that make sense? Like, I walk in and I wonder who lives there, because it hasn't really been me."

"How do we get it feeling like yours again?" asks Eliza.

"I don’t know," Alex says.

"Then," Eliza tells him, "we'll figure it out together. Let's start with a movie night and go from there. And if you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask."

"Thanks, Eliza," says Alex.

"No problem," she says. "That's what friends do."

 

* * *

 

"Sorry," says Thomas. "I have Mary tonight. I'm free Sunday night, though - she goes back to her mom's on Sunday afternoons."

"No need to apologize. We'll have another night when you can make it," Eliza tells him.

"What, you mean I can't get out of spending time with Hamilton? You're just determined to make me suffer." Thomas grins. It's leonine and endlessly endearing; he reminds Eliza of a huge kitten, soft claws and gentle teeth. She wants to touch his cheek, to see if his beard tickles her hand.

She doesn't touch. She doesn't dare hazard the intimacy.

 

* * *

Alex's apartment is oddly clean. Eliza had imagined it would be messy and haphazard - a man who focuses so much time on work must have little time to do anything else, least of all cleaning, she'd thought - but everything is neat. There are three golden wax pears in a white bowl on the front hall table. Eliza wonders who picked them and why. They don't seem particularly like something Alex would have chosen for himself, but then again what does she know?

"Your home is lovely," she tells him as she walks in and hands him her jacket. He hangs it in a closet by the front door.

"Thanks," he says. "I hate it."

"What's wrong with it?" she asks.

"It's boring," he says. "John's place was full of all these cool paintings - he's an artist, did you know that? I need some cool art or posters or  _ something _ here because it's too clean. I need some colour. Maybe a little organized disaster."

"You're an organized disaster," Eliza says.

Alex laughs. "I guess I earned that one. Popcorn?"

It's not microwave popcorn. It's gourmet popcorn from one of those little stores that sells a billion varieties. "I got a few different kinds," he says, "because I don't know what you like."

"I like anything," says Eliza.

"Cool." He dumps one of the bags into a big bowl and carries it to the couch, where he settles in the corner. Eliza curls up on the other side of the couch.

"What are we watching?" she asks.

"Oh, there's this movie about vampires," Alex starts, but she cuts him off.

"I don't do well with horror."

"It's not horror. It's a comedy more than anything. It's these vampires who live in a house together in New Zealand - trust me, you'll like it," says Alex. "Give it a chance?"

"I guess," says Eliza. "If I have to."

Alex turns on the movie. He's surprisingly silent for the first few minutes, wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles. There's nervous energy there. Eliza can see how tense he is in the way he holds his body and jiggles one leg. Finally, he says, "hey, this is gonna sound weird."

"Weird how?" she asks.

"I just - I want to know if you cuddle," Alex says apologetically.

“I mean, yeah. Yeah,” says Eliza. She scoots closer and Alex puts an arm around her shoulders.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m just so used to cuddling during movies.”

“It’s not a problem,” she says, except that it is a problem. It’s a problem to be so close to Alex and know that she isn’t the first thing on his mind. It’s a problem to suddenly realize how good he smells and how natural it feels to be pressed up against his side.

“Maybe I’m not so comfortable with this after all,” she says, and Alex immediately withdraws his arm.

“Sorry,” he says.

“No, it’s fine,” says Eliza. “It’s not a big deal, it’s whatever. I just -”

“Yeah?” Alex says.

She takes a deep breath. “Nothing,” she says. “It’s fine. It just felt -”

“Off, yeah,” says Alex.

Eliza shrugs. She takes a handful of popcorn from the bowl and fails to eat it. It sits in her hand, dusting her fingers with white cheddar.

“Alex,” she says.

“Yeah?” he asks.

She takes her time to roll the words around her mouth before saying, “it’s not that I don’t want to cuddle. It’s just -”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to make any excuses,” says Alex.

“Okay,” says Eliza. She kicks her heel against the couch a little. It takes a moment, but she finally continues, “it’s not that I don’t like you, Alex.” His name is heavy on her tongue.

“I know,” says Alex.

“I like you too much,” she says.

Oh, fuck.

“Oh,” Alex says, and he slings his arm across the back of the couch.

Eliza puts a piece of popcorn in her mouth and chews it slowly. She can barely taste it. She doesn’t like popcorn; she hates the way the husks of the kernels feel in her mouth.

“Is that, like, a problem?” Alex asks, and Eliza realizes just how long she’s been silent.

“Me liking you?” she asks.

“Yeah. Like, that doesn’t really seem like a problem to me,” says Alex.

Eliza squirms a little and says, “well, I mean, I guess it’s not, you know, a bad thing - I just - I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do from here. I wasn’t intending on saying anything about that to you and -”

“Hey,” he says. His voice is soft. “It’s okay. You don’t need to freak out - are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” says Eliza. Her chest is aching a little. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and moves a little further away on the couch. 

“Like -” Alex pauses, then continues, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”

“Really?” Eliza asks. There’s a grin trying to break free and she mostly holds it back. It escapes just a little bit - the corners of her lips twitch and her eyebrows raise a little, but that’s all.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “But I need to be up front with you. You’re not the only one I’ve been thinking about.”

Eliza just waits. She knows that Alex can’t keep secrets for shit, and that if she’s patient, he’ll just start talking.

He doesn’t disappoint. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence and then he blurts out, “It’s Thomas.”

Eliza laughs. She can’t help it. The thought of Alex having a crush on the man he squares off with every day is just too funny. She can’t imagine them holding hands, kissing, cuddling … holding each other gently … holding  _ her  _ gently …

Okay, maybe she can imagine it just a little bit. Maybe she can imagine Thomas bending over to kiss Alex’s lips. She thinks of both of them sandwiching her, one boy on either side, folding around her, and she can’t hold back a little shiver.

“Me too,” she admits. Thomas’ big awkward hands are such a contrast to Alex’s, which are long-fingered and precise. She wants to hold both of them at once. She wants to stand steady between them.

Alex puts a hand on her knee and says, “can we - you know - can we try dating? Like, I’m not asking for a relationship right away. I don’t know how I’d feel about that. But I would like to go out with you and see how things go from there.”

“We could always count tonight as a date,” she says, and her heart leaps into her throat.

“We could,” Alex agrees.

She looks into his eyes. Stormy sea grey. They captivate her and she capsizes, drowns in them, sinks down and doesn’t come up for air.

“You should kiss me,” she tells him. She can’t tear herself away from his eyes.

So he kisses her. He cups her cheek in one hand and tilts her chin up and then his lips are on hers. His beard tickles a little. She laughs into the kiss, then angles her head and recaptures his lips. They’re softer than she would have imagined.

Alex is the first to pull away. He looks at her like he’s seen a miracle.

“We should figure out how to get Thomas in on this,” he says.

Eliza smiles her scheming smile. “Oh, absolutely,” she says. “I want to see him kiss you.”

“He’d probably rather kick me,” says Alex.

“You might be surprised,” says Eliza. “Who could resist you?”

“A lot of people, as it turns out. I’m kind of a disaster,” Alex says.

“Maybe one day you’ll be my disaster,” Eliza tells him, and then adds, “mine and Thomas’.”

Alex smiles at her. “I think I like the sound of that,” he says softly. “Your disaster.”

Eliza takes his hand and settles back against his side.

Her mind is white noise and clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos prevent me from having a blue christmas. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

Alex sidles into Thomas’ office. He’s holding a bottle of wine - a peace offering of some kind, Thomas thinks. He’s a little suspicious. He’d never turn his nose up at a decent bottle of wine, but whatever Alex has done has to be bad to warrant this.

“How was your weekend with your daughter?” Alex asks.

“Good,” says Thomas.

“How old is she now?”

“She’s six.” Thomas twirls his pen in his hand and eyes the bottle of wine. “What is that?”

“It’s fermented grapes, Thomas,” says Alex, “in a glass container.”

“Thanks. Very informative,” Thomas says.

“No problem. It’s for you, by the way.” Alex puts it on the desk and scoots it a little closer to Thomas by shoving it with the tips of his fingers. 

“What’s the occasion?”

“The occasion is you’re gonna have a movie night with Eliza and I,” says Alex. “Tonight, if you want. That’s what we were hoping for, anyway.”

So it’s a bribe, then. “Why would I want to spend time with you outside of work?” Thomas asks.

“I have more wine,” Alex says.

“When should I be there?” Thomas replies immediately.

“Just come with us after work,” says Alex. “Eliza is making me leave early.”

“Alex early or regular early?” asks Thomas.

Alex pouts. It’s hopelessly endearing. “That’s bullying. You have to be nice to me.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” says Eliza, appearing in the doorway behind Alex. “Are you coming tonight or not?”

“I guess I will. If I have to,” Thomas says. He can’t help smiling at the two of them. Alex is just a little taller than Eliza and the two of them are perfect - Alex with his rolled up sleeves and the inkstains on his hands, Eliza with a couple wisps of hair falling loose from her ponytail. Thomas wants to tuck them behind her ears.

Alex and Eliza smile back. “We’re leaving at six,” says Eliza.

“Too early,” says Alex.

“I have some work that’ll take me a bit longer than usual tonight,” Thomas protests.

“I don’t care. We’re leaving at six,” Eliza repeats.

Thomas huffs and Alex joins in. “I guess,” says Thomas.

“If we  _ have  _ to,” says Alex.

“Good,” says Eliza. “I swear, managing you two is a full time job.”

She puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder and leans in, and Thomas feels his stomach yawn with distress. It looks like she’s about to kiss Alex’s cheek. At the last moment, she pulls away, and Alex leans back into her just for a split second before Eliza turns to leave.

He hates being the third wheel. Thomas almost cancels then and there, but then Alex turns to smile at him, and he suddenly can’t fathom ever saying no to that precious boy.

“I’m excited for tonight,” says Alex. “I don’t like how empty my apartment is these days, and it’s always nice to have company.”

“I guess if I’m at your place, I have to be nice to you,” says Thomas.

“That’s the rule, yeah,” Alex agrees.

“How have you been since the breakup?” Thomas asks. 

Alex is silent for a moment. “It’s been rough,” he admits finally. “I’m so used to not being alone and all of a sudden it’s like there’s this big empty place in my life. And I mean, of course I want to fill it, but I have to make sure it’s the right person this time. You know?”

“It doesn’t need to be your forever person,” Thomas says.

“No, I know,” says Alex. “But I don’t want to just lead someone on again. That isn’t fair.”

“So wait for the right person,” Thomas suggests.

Alex grins. “Oh, I think I know them already.”

Thomas thinks of the way Eliza leaned in, the way the corners of her lips had twitched as she’d gotten close to Alex, and he tries very hard to convince himself that he doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. It’s not as if he and Alex had a chance of any kind - he pushes too hard, he’s too antagonistic, and all they do is battle. “Well,” he says, trying to push the disappointment out, “whoever it is must be pretty special in order to put up with your bullshit.”

Alex laughs. Thomas wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting some kind of rejoinder, something cheeky, not just this open easy laughter. “They are pretty special, I guess,” he says. “See you tonight?”

“You’ll see me before tonight too, Alex. Our offices are like fifteen feet apart,” says Thomas.

“Then I’ll ignore you until six,” Alex says. “See you tonight.”

He turns to leave. Thomas twirls his pen again and stares at the open door. Of  _ course  _ Alex didn’t close it; that would have been far too considerate.

It’s no use trying to get back to work. Alex and Eliza are both endlessly distracting, even now that they’re gone; he keeps thinking about Eliza’s eyes, about Alex’s easy smile, about the way they look like they’d fit perfectly together. He wonders if there’s a space in there for him, or if he’ll just be chilling by himself while the two of them bond tonight.

No use overthinking it, he tells himself, and he tries very hard to focus on his case.

He doesn’t do a terribly good job.

 

* * *

 

“Nice place,” says Thomas, as Alex shows him into the apartment. “Less of a disaster than I would have thought.”

“Eliza said the same thing on Friday,” Alex complains.

“It’s because  _ you’re _ a disaster, Alex,” says Eliza. 

“Hey, I get to say that because I’m the disaster. You don’t get to use that word on me,” says Alex, but he’s grinning. “Is it really that surprising that my place is nice?”

“Yeah,” Eliza says.

“Yeah,” Thomas agrees.

“Wow, ouch. You’re both officially uninvited,” says Alex.

“Too late. This is my home now,” Eliza says, as she sprawls on the couch. She toes her shoes off and puts her feet up on the cushion, sighing, “oh, that feels good. Great to get off my feet.”

“You’ve been sitting all day,” Alex says helpfully.

Thomas snorts. “A long, hard day of sitting has a way of exhausting you, Hamilton.”

“Just because you’re a lazy piece of shit doesn’t mean everyone else is, Thomas,” says Alex. There’s that grin again. Thomas feels himself melt a little. He settles in an armchair and watches as Alex wriggles onto the couch. Eliza moves her feet just long enough to allow Alex to sit, and then drapes her legs across his lap.

“So,” she says. “We should probably be honest.”

Alex suddenly looks very guilty. “Tonight wasn’t really intended to be a movie night,” he says. “At least, not exclusively.”

“We lured you here under false pretenses,” Eliza agrees.

Thomas raises his eyebrows. “You’re gonna murder me tonight, aren’t you?”

“Worse,” says Alex. “We’re gonna talk about our feelings.”

Thomas stands. “Gross. I’m out.”

“Sit down,” says Eliza.

“Please,” adds Alex.

That  _ please  _ is what does it. Thomas has rarely ever heard that word out of Alex’s mouth. He settles back in the chair uneasily, jamming his hands into his pockets and slouching. His legs are too long for a chair so low. It’s not exactly comfortable, which just makes everything worse. At least if the chair were comfy he’d have more of a reason to stay.

Eliza looks at Alex. “How do we even start this?”

“I have feelings for you,” Alex blurts out. “How about that?”

Eliza nods. “Good enough, I guess.”

“What, me?” asks Thomas.

“Yeah,” says Alex.

Thomas looks at Eliza in disbelief. To his surprise, she’s nodding, as if she knows all about this nonsense. Her legs are still draped across Alex’s lap and as Thomas watches, she looks at Alex and gives him a dazzling smile. That’s not a platonic smile; it’s intimate, so intimate that Thomas has to look away. He can’t help but feel like he’s intruding on something.

“But you two,” he starts, and Alex cuts him off.

“Yeah, we talked about dating. But -”

“- we both have feelings for you,” Eliza says. “Of course, if you’re not comfortable with polyamory, then that makes things a bit more complicated. That’s assuming you’re even interested in either of us.”

“Are you two, you know, an item?” Thomas asks.

“Not really,” says Alex. “We agreed on two things first.”

“A couple of dates, to see how things go,” says Eliza.

“And telling you our feelings,” Alex adds.

“And this is covering both those bases, if you’d like. If you’re interested, I mean. This could be a date night,” Eliza says.

“Or it  could be the three of us sitting around awkwardly,” says Alex. “Depends on how you react to all this.”

Thomas shakes his head. “This is so weird,” he says.

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to feel obligated to say yes to us or anything,” Alex starts, but Thomas talks right over him.

“I’ve spent all this time mooning over the both of you and it was this easy,” he says. “You just solved this big problem I’ve had for, like, months. Just by talking.”

“Alex’s biggest talent,” says Eliza, smiling her flawless smile. Thomas smiles back and feels his heart thudding hard in his chest.

“So - date night?” he says.

“Date night,” Alex agrees. “Stop sitting over there by yourself and come cuddle.”

Thomas gets up and crosses to the couch, but he doesn’t sit down. Instead, he puts a hand on Eliza’s face and leans in. “Can I?” he asks. She nods; he presses his lips to hers, just softly, the barest hint of a kiss, and then leans towards Alex. He doesn’t even need to ask the question. Alex tangles a hand in Thomas’ hair, pulls him close, and kisses him soundly. Thomas melts into the kiss, and then Alex is pulling away and kissing Eliza, and everything is all muddled together and Thomas finds himself kneeling in front of the couch as the three of them find all the various ways their lips fit together. Eliza laughs as Thomas kisses her forehead and Alex kisses her cheek, and then Alex and Eliza are kissing the corners of Thomas’ mouth, and Thomas surges onto the couch between them and pulls them both close.

“I have an idea,” he says. “Fuck the movie.”

“Yeah?” says Eliza.

“Sounds intriguing. Go on,” says Alex.

“Instead,” says Thomas, “you can both tell me how much you adore me, and how long you’ve been sitting on these feelings.”

“Shut up,” says Alex, but there’s no venom in the words. He rests his head on Thomas’s shoulder; Eliza cuddles up under Thomas’ arm and puts a hand on his chest, just beneath his collarbone. He’s a little too warm but he can’t bear to move away. Alex’s cologne isn’t as strong now as it is at the beginning of the day but Thomas can still smell it - there’s a hint of pine, there, and something earthy, something that makes him want to press his nose into Alex’s neck and sniff.

So he does. He leans over awkwardly - it’s a bad angle - and he presses his face to the side of Alex’s neck and inhales, and there’s something underneath the cologne, a dark scent, that must just be Alex, and Thomas kisses him there, then turns and does the same to Eliza. Eliza makes a little gasping noise and throws her head back.

“Should we -” Thomas starts, but Alex cuts him off.

    “Let’s hold off on the physical stuff for now. I’m not super comfortable just jumping right into it - I’d like to spend a little more time with both of you like this before we hop into bed.”

    “Sounds good to me,” says Eliza, although she looks a little disappointed when Thomas pulls back. Her look of disappointment turns into something like euphoria when Thomas tugs the elastic gently out of her hair and combs her ponytail out with his fingers. He grins at her, then does the same to Alex’s ponytail. Both of them lean into him and make soft noises of contentment as he runs his fingers through their hair.

    “I can live with that,” says Thomas. “But my request still stands. If we aren’t fucking, then it’s Thomas time. I get to hear all about how great I am.”

“That seems reasonable and not at all conceited,” says Eliza.

“So it started a few months ago, when you turned everything on my desk upside down while I was away on holiday,” Alex begins, and Thomas throws his head back and laughs.

“I forgot about that. Tell me more,” he says.

Eliza looks at them both and smiles, and as Alex talks, Thomas feels - well, full. He feels full of love, full of gratitude, full of hope. There’s uncertainty, still, a little worry on his mind; it’s hard knowing that all three of them reciprocate each other’s feelings but that they aren’t a solid item, but he can deal with that. It’s enough, in this moment, to just be close to the two people he adores.

So he feels full of hope.

He feels full of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos stop the world so i can melt with you. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


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